


What Changes

by Hanna



Series: What Changes and What Remains the Same [1]
Category: Thor (2011)
Genre: AU, Gen, Role Reversal, jotun!thor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-26
Updated: 2012-10-26
Packaged: 2017-11-17 02:09:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/546468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hanna/pseuds/Hanna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU in which Thor is the child Odin rescues from the temple rather than Loki;</p><p> <i>Thor’s back was to them as he stood before the Casket, his royal red cloak rippling, the ridiculous wings on his helmet tipped, skewed from the fight, Mjolnir at his belt, placing the Casket of Ancient Winters back on its pedestal and Loki smiled in relief.</i></p><p> </p><p>  <i>Then he turned around.</i></p><p> </p><p>  <i>Red eyes gazed from a blue face, elegantly lined, and Loki leapt into action.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	What Changes

**Author's Note:**

> Initally written for a kinkmeme prompt which called for Thor to be the Jotun but nothing else to change about the movie. I can safely say it veered about as far from that as it is possible to veer. I'm going to write a second part where Thor is on Earth during the events of the Avengers maybe- tell me if you'd be interested.

Odin staggered into the temple and nearly collapsed to his knees. His head was splitting in half, blood covered his left- now only- eye and he could hardly see. He gasped for breath. His hands came up to his face and came away covered in red.

Groaning, he pitched forward, his blood staining the snow… and heard a wail. He frowned and tried to scrub away as much of the blood as possible.

A babe was left abandoned barely an arm’s length from him. He gaped and looked around warily for the parent, but no one was there. The child wailed louder and he thought of his son. Before he knew it he moving forward.

He was cautious about touching the child, but when he didn’t burn him he lifted him into his arms and gazed into the blue face and at the red eyes. He traced his markings.

“Laufey,” he murmured. The child gurgled and rested his face against his bloody chest. He stroked his spine as he would Loki’s and was surprised to feel the ridged blue skin fade into soft Aesir skin. He looked down and the child was now gazing at him with wide blue eyes.

He sighed. Frigga was going to kill him.

XX

Frigga looked at the child and then at Odin and raised a single eyebrow.

“He was abandoned,” he instantly defended himself. “I couldn’t leave him there. He changed when I picked him up, he’d have died in the cold.” She laughed and moved closer, shaking her head.

“Oh, Odin,” she sighed, holding her arms out for the child. Her husband looked hopefully at her as he passed him over. Tufts of blonde hair adorned his otherwise bald head. She stroked his cheek and he giggled.

“…I was thinking of calling him Thor?” Odin asked hopefully and Frigga shot him an amused look.

“Oh, alright,” she said. Odin beamed as she hefted the child higher in her arms. “I’ll get another cot in the nursery in the morning.” She gave him a sharp look. “And you’re the one who is telling him what he is, understood?” Odin nodded.

“Yes, dear,” he said, smiling broadly and kissing her. She swatted him away.

“Go to bed,” she said.

XX

Frigga was quite happy to receive another son. Loki wasn’t quite so content to get a brother. He wailed when Frigga played with Thor, stole Thor’s toys and pulled Thor’s hair. Thor rarely cried, though, and as he started toddling around, gave as good as he got. The brothers never got along. They loved each other, certainly, but their love was expressed in blows and broken toys and, as they grew, rows that shook the palace to its foundations and had thunder roiling on the horizon.

Loki, crown prince, was quiet and studious. He possessed and perfected seidr, and people murmured that the crown prince should not be encouraged in the womanly arts. Loki remembered all who told these rumours, and vowed to get his own back.

Thor was a sunny, happy child, free from care and responsibility. Everyone thought he was going to be made king, succession be damned; he was boisterous and watched starry eyed the warriors with the rest of the children and wanted to be a warrior as was proper.

Loki might have being jealous of his younger brother except for his visceral disgust at the very idea of being king. As such, his bitterness was rarely directed at Thor, Thor who was so open with his emotions, Thor who never could hide anything from anyone. He’d do anything to protect his little brother, and Thor adored Loki, following him around, reading over his shoulder even though he didn’t understand the words in order to share what he did until Loki scolded him for being rude. He learned some seidr from Loki; he loved it, because his brother did it. Still, weapons fascinated him more.

More than anything, Thor loved the cold. He’d kick the furs his nursemaids would smooth over him off and some nursemaids swore he woke up blue. They panicked, ran for Frigga, who held her son, her curious, happy son, in her arms and they watched his skin return to pink.

“Why can I do that, Mummy?” Thor asked instantly. Frigga frowned in contemplation. “Don’t say ask when I’m older, I want to know now,” he whined pre-emptively. Frigga laughed.

“In the morning,” she said, knowing his concentration span was short and hoping he’d forget by then. He pouted but turned over to go back to sleep. When she took his furs off the floor he shook his head.

“I like the cold, Mummy,” he said. “I don’t want them.” She chuckled and kissed his forehead.

“Alright,” she agreed. “No furs.” He beamed and kissed her back.

XX

Thor did not forget in the morning; he tried to induce the change again. He gave up after a decade and didn’t try again, putting it out of his mind.

XX

They changed as they grew up. Loki’s bitterness at being considered second best for the throne became hatred of his brother who everyone loved. Thor got tired of being insulted all the time and stopped trailing after Loki, instead joining the young men who gathered at the sparring yard all the time. Loki was a manipulative, plotting, tricky young man, thin and dark. He looked strange amongst the Aesir. Thor was a golden, broad, blonde giant. He grew quickly, and within centuries was the height of many adults. And he kept growing.

Frigga and Odin were worried, but Thor loved it. He finally stopped growing when he was a head taller than everyone else and half as broad again.

And Loki scowled up at his little brother and added another check to his list of things he perceived Thor at being better at.

Thor was the perfect Aesir, easy to get along with, easy to love. Loki was prickly and snappish, and unless you really wanted something from him it was easier to just leave him alone.

One day they were taken to the vault by their father. Odin wanted to give the hammer Mjolnir to Loki, who sneered.

“What use have I of a hammer?” he asked. “Give it to Thor.” So he did. Thor hefted it almost distractedly, his eye caught by the Casket of Ancient Winters. Odin felt his skin grow cold as he approached it, reaching a hand out to it, and stopped him. His younger son frowned at him.

“That will burn you,” he said. “It’s too cold to touch.” Thor made a face.

“Cold can’t burn, Father,” he said. Loki snorted behind him. Odin pulled Thor away from the Casket, noticing how his eyes trailed it.

“Yes it can, it’s called frostbite,” he said. “The Jotun have a touch that burns. Their relic will burn you too.” His conscience niggled at him for the lie; Thor was old enough to know. But he chose not to tell. He could tell him later. He wanted to keep his family as it was. It was selfish of him, but he could afford a bit of selfishness.

Ushering his sons out the vault, he made a big fuss over the hammer, but Thor’s enthusiasm was only half hearted and Loki’s eyes were narrowed darkly.

XX

Thor was a selfless boy. He did not expect the throne, nor want it, despite rumours to the contrary. He’d certainly received training for it; it would have been stupid not to train him, he was a prince; but he didn’t want it. Loki had always wanted the throne because that way he could lord over the ones who scoffed at the crown prince’s wielding of womanly arts.

It was lucky they were born in the order they were, though Odin had not yet announced his heir. Everyone thought it would be Thor. Loki thought it would be Thor. Thor laughed at the very idea.

“I am not the firstborn,” he said, tossing Mjolnir nonchalantly at Fandral during a spar, who dived aside. The hammer twisted in the air and returned to his hand as Sif came at him. He blocked her attack but her spear had reach, and he did not use lightning in these sessions. She got past his guard and they both ended up on the ground laughing.

“I shall not be made king, brother. You were born to be king.” And Thor smiled so warmly that Loki had to smile back.

“We were both born to be kings,” he reminded him. “Don’t you remember?” Thor scoffed.

“You will be king, Loki. And you will be a great king.” He’d reached a muddy hand to Loki then, grinning, and Loki had slapped it away, making a face at the mud on his hand.

“Don’t be a sap,” he told him and Thor laughed.

And yet Loki could not help but watch Thor, distance himself, and hate him for being everything Loki was not.

XX

“I can show you ways that Heimdall cannot see,” Loki told Laufey-King, “Into Asgard. My brother will be crowned king on the next eve. The guards will be distracted, and you can take the Casket.” And Laufey-King smiled.

XX

When the day of coronation came, Loki was the one being outfitted be become king. His surprise was clear on his face and Mother smiled at him.

“You are the crown prince, Loki,” she said. “This is your birth right.” Guilt surged through him. He could not block the secret ways; not without blocking his own ways in and out of Asgard. He chewed his bottom lip and Mother smoothed his hair.

“Don’t look so worried,” she smiled. “It’ll be fine.” The tension did not leave his body as she pressed a kiss to his forehead and stepped back. “You look wonderful, darling.”

“Kingly,” Thor agreed from the door, grinning broadly, decked out in his own royal armour, winged helm under his arm. “Majestic. Regal. Splendid-” Loki cut him off once Mother was gone.

“Thor,” he said, voice low and urgent, and Thor frowned. “I have to tell you something.”

XX

Thor stared at him, bewildered.

“But, why?” he asked. “Why would you do that?” Loki laughed, slightly hysterical.

“I thought you were going to be crowned,” he said. “I was jealous. I’ve always been jealous.” Thor stared in utter incomprehension and Loki felt like crying. “Thor, promise me you’ll never change,” he said, and Thor blinked.

“Of course, Loki… we have to deal with them.”

“Double the guard. Stand down there with them, guard it, please. Don’t let my mistake ruin Asgard.” Thor laughed broadly.

“Of course not, Brother,” he said. “I am expected be at Father’s side, but this is more important.” He raised Mjolnir, the hammer Loki had refused, in his hand. “I’ll protect the Casket,” he vowed. Loki smiled in pure relief, knowing his younger brother’s word was inviolable, clasped his hand.

“Thank you,” he said.

XX

The attack came, as expected, just as Loki was about to swear the oath. He did not feel right swearing it, he had let his jealousy overtake his sense, had listened to common _gossip_ and planned action. But he wanted the throne, even now.

Then Father stopped speaking, gazing into the distance, and he was so very grateful.

“The Vault,” he murmured, and turned his beady eye on Loki, who cringed away. Loki rose when he beckoned and hurried after him, staff in hand, to find two dead guards and three slain Jotnar. Thor’s back was to them as he stood before the Casket, his royal red cloak rippling, the ridiculous wings on his helmet tipped, skewed from the fight, Mjolnir at his belt, placing the Casket of Ancient Winters back on its pedestal and Loki smiled in relief.

Then he turned around.

Red eyes gazed from a blue face, elegantly lined, and Loki leapt into action. He rushed forward, intent on avenging his brother and killing this changeling…then Father held out a hand.

“Hold, Loki,” he said softly, and Loki froze.

“But Father,” he protested, gesturing at Thor. “Father, someone…”

“No, Loki,” he said, his eyes not moving from the thing in Thor’s clothing. If Loki squinted, he could see Thor in its features. Odin stepped forward, and it stayed where it was, beside the Casket, one hand very close to it. Then it stepped forward, out of the icy blue light, and its skin rippled into an illusion of his brother.

“Thor,” Father said softly. “My son.” It stepped back into the Casket’s light, its hands going blue again.

“Am I?” it asked in Thor’s voice, quiet, uncertain. “They stopped, Father. When they saw me. I had the Casket, to protect it, they looked at me, into my eyes, at my…” he touched his forehead, felt the ridges. “And they stopped.”

There was a long, awkward silence. It raised its hand and examined the fading blue.

Then Father staggered back and fell to the ground. Both Loki and the thing that had taken Thor’s place rushed forward, Loki practically hissing at the Jotun when it reached for his hand, but it did so anyway, as Father’s eyes slid closed. An anguished noise escaped the Jotun changeling.

“Get away from him,” Loki snarled and it stepped back.

“Loki,” it said, biting its lip in the way Thor did when he was uncertain. “Loki, I-” the guards were coming in now and neither Loki nor the Jotun spoke further as Father was hefted gently and carried out the Vault.

XX

Loki was made king in Father’s Sleep; the magic of Gungnir did not feel right and he was not popular. It probably didn’t help that his first order was to order his brother’s imposter locked in the dungeon under heavy guard, at least not in the eyes of the people who did not know Thor had been replaced.

It still looked so confused, broadcasting its apparent hurt through its eyes as openly as Thor had. It was only after Loki had tried for hours to get it to tell him where Thor was that Mother came down.

“Loki,” she said, and he pushed her back.

“I’m busy, Mother,” he said grimly. Mother stepped in front of him, between the Jotun and himself. She looked sharply at the guards.

“Leave us,” she ordered, and they did without a fuss. She turned to the Jotun.

“Thor,” she said, pulling it into a hug. Loki wanted to pull her away but couldn’t make himself. The Jotun sighed in utter relief, melting into her arms.

“Mother,” it whispered. “What’s…” its voice was strangled, lost.

“Your father should have explained this to you decades ago.” Her voice was reproving. “Thor, you are our son,” she said. The Jotun pulled back.

“Then explain what happened, please,” it begged.

“Mother, don’t be foolish,” Loki said. “I saw what happened down there. That thing isn’t Thor, don’t be fooled by it.” Its face crumpled.

“Brother…” Loki spat at it. It swayed back, looking devastated.

“Listen to me, both of you,” Mother said. Loki fell silent, still glaring venomously at the Jotun standing too close to her. “Thor is your brother, but I did not birth him. Your father rescued him from Jotunheim at the end of the war,” she told Loki. “You were abandoned,” she explained to the Jotun. It went slack against the wall, its hand rising to its mouth.

“…I’m…” it sounded choked, and Mother turned sadly to it.

“You are my son, Thor,” she said firmly. “ _Our_ son. And we love you.”

“Then…” it even had the halting sound that Thor made when he was thinking. How long had Loki called this thing brother? What had they done to Thor? What was Mother thinking? It must have bewitched her.

“Then why do I seem…” it gestured at its Aesir skin and Mother smiled softly, stroked its hair.

“You changed with your father picked you up. You matched him- chose him.” Both Loki and Thor- for Loki was unwillingly starting to believe that this really was Thor- were silent. Then Loki spoke.

“Why?” he asked. “Why did Father take him?”

“He was a runt, abandoned,” Mother said. “He was going to die.” Thor chewed his lip anxiously.

“Is that… the only reason, Mother?” Mother smiled.

“You are my smart boy,” she said, fondly. “No, Thor, that wasn’t the only reason. He wanted peace. He thought you could help forge that peace.” Thor’s face was the picture of confusion; Loki blinked, hiding his behind his mask.

“How?” Thor asked, bewildered. “A Jotun foundling- a runt- would never be enough.” and of course Thor didn’t hate the Jotun; he was far too forgiving, far too willing to believe that war with the Jotun was in the past.

“Laufey’s runt.” Thor and Loki gasped in unison. Mother reached a hand to Thor’s forehead. “That’s what the markings signify. You are Laufey’s son.”

“We were both born to be kings,” Loki said, very softly. Thor glanced at him, understanding in his eyes.

“One of Asgard, and one of Jotunheim,” he finished. Mother watched them in pride, and Thor suddenly pushed away from the wall.

“I’m going to bed,” he said abruptly, barely glancing at Loki as he passed him.

XX

They avoided each other for weeks.

Loki could not see Thor as his little brother; whenever he heard Thor laugh, strained and unhappy, he longed to protect him, but the image of the monster kept flashing in his mind and he could not make himself do it. He couldn’t help but think it was all a lie, a trick, that Thor wasn’t his brother at all. He avoided Thor; his brother, the monster, what did it matter; and Thor avoided him.

It hurt more than he’d have thought possible.

XX

The next time he saw the monster Thor was standing in front of his mirror, examining himself.

“Like what you see?” Loki asked bitingly from the door. “I didn’t think you had _that_ bad taste, Thor. Monsters aren’t usually considered desirable.” Thor’s hurt flashed in his red eyes as he turned to Loki.

“This is me, Loki,” he said. “I might as well get used to it.” Loki spat at him and Thor recoiled from the hatred and fear in his face. He strode over and slammed his door shut in Loki’s face.

XX

Father woke a week later, a week in which neither Thor nor Loki saw fit to reconcile. Thor was uncertain, shuffling his feet and not meeting his eye as he mumbled vaguely, and Loki’s smile was positively poisonous.

To say that Father was confused would be an understatement.

Later he came to seek Loki out.

“Loki,” he said. Loki sneered at him.

“Here to tell me that I’m a monster too?” he asked acerbically. Father closed his eye in resignation.

“Loki, he is still your brother. You were raised as brothers; your blood does not matter.” Loki exploded.

“He’s a Frost Giant, Father! A monster! I will not be brothers with a monster!” He heard sudden footsteps storm away and spat at the door.

“You are, Thor! Don’t try to deny it!” he shouted spitefully.

“Loki,” Father growled warningly and Loki turned back to him, subsiding. “Your brother is not a monster. You will go apologise right now.”

“What are we, two hundred?” he asked in disgust. “Kiss and make up? Is that what you’d like?” Father glared at him and Loki scurried out, buoyed by the force of it, but could not find Thor.

XX

He found out the next day that Thor had gone to Jotunheim.

“What?” he asked, astonished. “He’s going to get himself killed! Heimdall-” he was already preparing to drag Thor home when Heimdall shook his head.

“This is something he must do alone,” he said. “Your father has decreed it thus upon your brother’s request.” Nothing Loki said could convince him otherwise, so he stormed back to the palace.

XX

The thought of Thor amongst the beasts drove him mad. He imagined them poisoning Thor, pulling him to their side, lying to him and hurting him, letting him see acts of charity to make him support them. Then they’d throw him into the wilds and laugh at him for being so foolish to trust them. And he would be a fool; he was a fool. An idiot, the perfect Aesir without even _being_ Aesir. He was everything Loki was not; a warrior, loved. Loki hated him. Loki loved him.

He festered and boiled with it, furious at his brother for his utter foolishness one day and coldly saying that if the monster wanted to be amongst its kind it was welcome the next until everyone who’d listened in the first place stopped listening to him, even Mother and Father. And he was infuriated. Even gone, even though he was Jotun and not the perfect Aesir everyone thought him to be, who Loki had always hated him for being, he still commanded Mother and Father’s attention.

He’d tried to get more lessons on kingship from Father, but Father had given him a long, sad look and told him he wasn’t ready.

He snapped.

He traversed the paths of Yggdrasil to Jotunheim and watched Thor, so unfamiliar in his blue skin and yet instantly recognisable, wearing only a loincloth, laugh with a giant as they iced over a wall to repair the palace. After they clapped each other on the shoulder (well, the giant clapped Thor on the shoulder with enough force to send him staggering and Thor patted him on the lower back, his runt status instantly obvious, and in any other mood Loki would have been cheered to see someone push his brother around) and Thor launched into a tale about an adventure he’d been on with Fandral, Hogun, Volstagg, Sif and… Loki. He froze at the animated telling, Thor’s affection for him clear, and tried not to remember the adventure.

He followed them to Laufey-King’s palace, where both bent knee to the king. Thor looked up and Loki could see their matching markings, and even here he fit in. He watched as Laufey-King reluctantly complimented his work and bid him to rise, which he did.

“He didn’t do too bad a job with you,” he admitted. “My son.” And Thor _glowed_.

“Laufey-King- Father,” he said, attempting to compose his face into something approaching regality but utterly failing. “I should like to return to Asgard soon- I miss Mother and Father and Loki.” His smile was soft, affectionate. “I hope I’ve been gone long enough for him to have figured out how he feels.”

Laufey-King smiled down at him.

“Then go with my blessing, Thor Laufeyson.” Thor bowed again.

Loki vanished in a fit of pique.

XX

He fit in nowhere- Thor had to places in which he belonged. He planned his revenge. He would reveal his heritage in Asgard, ruin his reputation, he would destroy Jotunheim. He knew the bifrost was capable of such things; all he had to do was keep it going.

He waited for Thor to come home.

First came ‘destroy Jotunheim’. Have Thor defend their enemies, and then reveal he was one of them. He immobilised Heimdall using seidr, sneaking up on him, and grabbed his sword. He activated the bifrost and waited for Thor, who predictably enough came running.

“Loki!” he bellowed. “Loki, why are you doing this?” he sounded utterly panicked, probably thinking about all his monster friends.

“Did you betray us, Thor?” Loki asked, advancing on him. “Do you prefer Jotunheim? Would you rather be there?” He thrust with his spear and Thor stepped aside.

“Brother, stop this madness,” he pleaded. “Please.”

“Is it madness?” Loki asked, pitch rising. “Is it? _Is it?_ ” Thor was staring at him, torn and confused.

“Loki, brother,” he began and Loki cut him off, sharp and harsh.

“You’re not my brother!” he screamed and Thor’s face fell.

“I am your brother, Loki,” he said. “I am. He tried to edge closer to Heimdall’s sword but Loki’s magic prevented him from moving it. Loki flew at him; he batted the attack aside.

“Fight me!” he cried. “Fight me, Thor, fight me! Would you rather I kill your precious monster father?” Thor leapt at him, rage filling his eyes. _Finally._ Asgard would see the monster he was if he attempted to kill his brother. They tumbled onto the rainbow bridge and Thor managed to pin Loki under Mjolnir. He was helpless to stop the bifrost. Except for…

Loki could see the conflict on his face, but he resolved it when he called Mjolnir to his hand and, to Loki’s astonishment, started smashing the rainbow bridge. He leapt to his feet, raised his staff and…

Went flying as the end of the bridge curled up on itself.

He became aware that he was holding the end of Gungnir and Thor was gripping the other so tightly his knuckles were white a few moments later. He stared past him, at Father, and hated how his voice cracked.

“Father!” he cried. “I was doing it for you, Father! They’re monsters!” And Father just shook his head sadly.

“No, Loki,” he said. “They’re not.” Loki stared at Thor, angry, terrified, trying to pull Loki up, and let go. He heard Thor’s despairing cries as he fell, and wondered why he did not feel satisfaction but grief and guilt at causing his brother- not his brother- hurt.

Then all went dark.

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is gold!


End file.
